Suriyaki
by Shirogiku
Summary: Each time he tried out the meat it felt as if a few needles stung in his throat, obstructing the pass of the mouthful - even though it tasted good and smelled deliciously. Luciano/Suzaku, mentions of Gino/Suzaku.


**Disclaimer/Translator's Note: **Code Geass belongs to Sunrise and the original "Suriyaki" belongs to Jennyfer Werther aka Lena O. I merely translated the story from the language of Cervantes to Shakespeare's. And I would also like to thank my wonderful beta, Aki, and recommend you to read her "Trial and Error" (and other works too, of course). Both are on my fav authors list;)

**Suriyaki.**

_And one kiss I had of her mouth, _

_As I took the apple from her hand._

_But while I bit it, my brain whirled_

_And my foot stumbled;_

_And I felt my crashing fall through_

_The tangled boughs beneath her feet,_

_And saw the dead white faces_

_That welcomed me in the pit._

**The Orchard Pit **- **Dante Gabriel Rossetti.***

Suzaku kept himself as well informed as possible of the turmoil that was developing in the Chinese Federation. He knew that Gino and the Tristan, together with Anya and her Mordred, set out to defend Prince Schneizel's battlefront and to rescue Princess Cornelia, who was presumably in enemy hands. The Second Prince had requested his presence, which had been opposed by the Emperor himself through assigning the Knight of Seven the post of Commander-in-chief in Egypt. Zero's hand had extended over the whole world, either giving the terrorists false hopes to reemerge from the shadows and to oppose to the regimen, or encouraging marginalized groups and nonconformists to destroy any chance of dignity for their countries. Despite the difficult times.

"But Your Majesty...my presence was requested in..."

King Charles swiveled around, as if the matter had been settled, making a gesture of his hand that resembled an authoritative, but caring father. Nostalgia.

"Britannia doesn't negotiate with the terrorists. She wipes them off the face of the earth. I've been too indulgent towards that son of mine who abandoned me and plotted our destruction right after taking the lives of two of his siblings, and who knows what else he would have done if he had not been captured in time. It ends this very instant. Lord Kururugi, you have delivered your destiny in my hands and I command that you shape it on the battlefield, yes, but not where you could hinder the Pax Britannia. Understood? "

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Suzaku bowed and on the next day departed for that land of pyramids, sand and scorpions, in which enough blood had been shed already. His working days were bearable all thanks to Gino, who, if he was taking any of that seriously, was hiding that very well; also, to Anya, who was forgetting their names epically from day to day.

It seemed to have been on purpose that Lord Bradley was summoned as reinforcement a few weeks after, and that he would arrive during a violent storm that impeded immediate radio communications with the military base from the encampment.

Suzaku heard the Percival's engine even before the machine itself deigned to present its form in the middle of the sand that turned the environment around it a shade of sepia. He would have wanted to be inside the Lancelot and not merely close to his tent, at this hour of the day, wearing only a dressing gown and haggard, with days'-old stubble on his cheeks. Suzaku gritted his teeth before saluting, keeping in mind the rain of bullets that descended on the villagers to whom they had promised immunity in exchange for laying down their arms. His subordinates, however, did bow (certainly more out of terror than fascination) when Lord Bradley emerged from his cockpit, having dropped a bundle to the ground. It was trembling and writhing, covered by sand. Suzaku bowed to it instinctively: it was a young Asian.

"He was collaborating with the Black Knights. I made a stop at the Chinese Federation for information and I was allowed to take him with me, because one hostage would suffice for them. I had to promise not to kill him. They believed me only when I laid out my intention to bring him to work as a chef for you, Kururugi, taking into account that you will reach the age of eighteen on the field soon. Lord Weinberg thought that it was a great idea."

"Gino wouldn't have thought that you would cross two continents with him on your back and drop him at my feet in shock and hypothermia, you son of a bitch." Suzaku held his tongue, but his countenance betrayed quite a bit of what he was thinking and that appeared to please Lord Bradley, who was as fresh as a daisy at this hour, greatly.

"The communication system is out of commission at the moment because of the storm. Do you have any news about the situation?"

Luciano shrugged his shoulders, as if to diminish the importance of the subject, and asked one of the lower ranking soldiers to unpack his belongings from the storage space of the Percival.

"The Rebels don't stand a chance. Although I believe that it is good that you stay in the dark for now, Kururugi. Perhaps it would affect you deeply to find out the exact number of your fellow countrymen's lives that are being lost."

Suzaku wasn't going to make a scene in front of third parties. Already Cecile and Lloyd were arriving to relieve him in their own manners, one with lunches and nervous smiles, the other with effervescent gestures to the recently arrived, who made his way to the private tent that was put at his disposal. The young captive was taken to the infirmary and Suzaku turned to preparing his strategy until the sunrise.

Gino's death, he insisted to himself - as often insisted by those who had lost a war due to unfavorable wind (although his case was very different and he found himself, at the end of the day, victorious) - would have affected him less if he had learned of it at night. If he didn't have to close his eyes in front of the controls because Gino's face was intervening with the orders that he ought to formulate, so that the attack would be a success and the defense wouldn't fall through his fault.

The fact that Luciano Bradley approached Suzaku's tent to offer his condolences was disconcerting. He couldn't even blame the anxiolytics for it. Did the Knight of Ten just backslap him and ask him not to force himself that much? Something smelled rotten. Arthur, crouching under his cot, showing his teeth and snorting, sensed it too. But Suzaku didn't want to be prejudiced, not after having passed through so many troubles from those who were.

"I didn't dare to tell you about Weinberg because I supposed it would be a low blow and that when the transmission equipment returned to normal functioning you would find out it by yourself. On the contrary to what they say about me, I don't consider myself a sadist when there is no need for it. There is enough fresh meat for me in this battle." Luciano clicked his tongue and extended his arms, with a smile that, maybe, wasn't meant to be threatening, but nevertheless…

"You are forgiven, Lord Bradley. And now, if you'll excuse me as well…" Suzaku wanted, more than ever, to be in the old General Headquarters, that had doors made of steel and not thermal-ambient insulation fabric to make a barrier between him and the people he didn't want to face at the moment. The storm was blowing against the dunes, the dogs were howling and the moon was full.

"Not so fast, Kururugi! Do you remember what Lord Weinberg's last wish was?" It was rather disrespectful to refer, in a tone that flippant, to something that was surely said by someone ill-prepared to go to the battlefield, as though he were going to enjoy a party of rugby. By that point Suzaku had forgotten what exactly Luciano told him as soon as he descended with the captive on his back. He only recalled that Bradley didn't inform him immediately of the changes for the worse in the Federation, and that later Luciano grabbed Sugiyama by his straightjacket. The young man would only be a little older than Suzaku himself, a body that didn't speak of wars, but of a passive alliance, his face completely devoid of blood, not as much as the tears that furrowed it. Luciano brought his mouth close to Sugiyama's ears to whisper to him something of a surely (startlingly) obscene nature, something that revived the tremors and quiet begging, all that before being dragged to the infirmary by the young women that accompanied Lord Bradley. And Suzaku didn't do a thing about all of it, exhausted as he already was and still ashamed of having let Zero escape when he had his chance.

Suzaku was already treated as a potential traitor - even by the soldiers, who barely followed his orders, which was why Bismarck was accustomed to send another Knight of the Rounds with him, in order to remind them their place. This, unfortunately, worked better when it was anyone else (Luciano included) other than Lord Weinberg, who wasn't sufficiently respected either.

"Refresh my memory, Lord Bradley." Suzaku was tired. He didn't know where it would lead him if he chose to ask Lord Bradley to leave him alone, but he didn't want any more problems either (and, truth to be told, most probably Luciano would content himself with just a pair of hurtful comments more). Maybe, if the Knight of Ten satiated himself with molesting Suzaku, he would forget about Kento Sugiyama, a prisoner in chains of medieval fashion in Luciano's tent and whose destiny, according to a pair of soldiers who had the habit of addressing Suzaku rather informally, was obscure and intimidating in many ways. Definitely, the next time he wasn't on the battlefield at the same time as Bradley he would do something about the captive, but, in any case, for how long would an Eleven survive certainly without any knowledge of the local language and outside of the Britannian encampment? Was the only liberation that Suzaku could grant him a grave, dug on the quiet somewhere where the dogs wouldn't gnaw at the body immediately, a bullet to the head and an apology for how little was in his hands? Suzaku told himself that he would be able to permit the luxury of saving more lives when he was the Knight of One. In order to achieve that goal he had to stand head and shoulders above and look down on his subordinates, Britannians in their majority.

"A dinner in your old country's style, of course. Actually, you have never left it behind, right?" Suzaku didn't have enough time to respond. Luciano pointed behind his back with a flourish. What emerged from the night: Marika Soresi and Liliana Vergamont, together with the Eleven that was just on his mind, curiously looking as well as possible in his emaciated state. Sugiyama remained nervous and sad, almost catatonic. But he wasn´t shaking with tremors any more, nor did he display any grave physical damage because of his detention under Bradley´s responsibility (which could have been sufficient to cost him a few important body parts), nor particular terror. Maybe they had bargained for stability, which was good enough, although Suzaku was surprised that Sugiyama hadn't committed suicide yet. The Black Knights had earned the reputation of being prideful well. And with someone like Lelouch as their leader… Suzaku tried to focus on the situation at hand.

Luciano's small entourage brought steaming trays giving off an extravagant smell that Suzaku associated with the winter in his homeland.

"How was that called? "Suriyaki", Lord Kururugi." Everything sounded like a provocation, coming from Bradley's mouth, but this in particular seemed softened by… good intentions? Humility? Might Suzaku have earned his respect after all? It didn't seem even remotely possible to him. It was... way too simple. Maybe, as with other soldiers and superiors, Suzaku might have impressed Luciano with an act that was only natural to him. Risking his life to the extreme, perhaps? Ordering executions of enemy soldiers that didn't surrender? Sometimes Suzaku could no longer recognize himself; in a certain way, acceptance of a Monster like Luciano would have weighed on the Knight of Seven more than his animosity, the latter somewhat reminding Suzaku that he was more human still. But now they were actually comrades, if that wasn't a cruel joke. And if it was, could Suzaku avoid it with the excuse of his headaches?

Maybe the young women and the captive didn't know a thing about Luciano's intentions, since they had crossed the threshold lightly, the ladies wearing low-necked civil dresses and the young man that accompanied them still handcuffed, but without the straightjacket appropriate for prisoners, and avoiding making any suspicious movement. Sugiyama even bowed before Luciano Bradley, with a little less terror than he'd expected, before making off. Liliana and Marika, who were smiling like two schoolgirls, took the prisoner by the hand and blew kisses (a little bit forced in Marika's case) to their commander-in-chief, who watched them leave with indifference and let himself sink on the cushion by the table, pouring himself some sake and inviting Suzaku to do the same. Arthur was watching the two Knights of the Round from underneath the cot, hissing worriedly. The surprising thing was that nobody threw a knife at him: Luciano merely shrugged his shoulders and talked about the labor of preparing a plate so exquisite in a Britannian encampment like this one, even though Britannians did know how to travel, to the war included.

Suzaku raised his eyebrow inevitably, expecting a warning from the Geass about some poison hidden in the food. The only response he got was his stomach's growling: he had forgotten dinner, in spite of the insistences of one of the sergeants sent by the chef. Suzaku sank on the other cushion, with the acceptance of one being hanged, and took the chopsticks from besides the bowl. He was surprised by the regional details which Bradley had considered - or, in any case, which he had gotten out of Sugiyama. It didn't stop being surprising. Definitely Luciano was going to end up trying to stab him any time now. Suzaku waited for a sudden movement from Bradley indicating that a fierce struggle would start. But the whole time his plate was filling up with a variety of meats and vegetables together with rice, he only got the impression that they were trying to be friendly. Even if there was a selfish interest ready to rear its head at some point, Suzaku was perceptive but lacked the imagination necessary to deduce Luciano's true intentions. His mind was getting lost in frivolous tales and that was how he gave in to sharing that meal of dubious intent, deciding to trust Lord Bradley up to the point to which Luciano would let him.

Arthur was trembling and mewling nervously from his place underneath the cot. Suzaku tried to offer him some meat and vegetables, sliced thinly for his fangs. But he only got his cat to snort with his hair standing on end at the thought of leaving his hiding place, which would inevitably lead to coming near Luciano; the latter continued drinking sake with indifference, using a fork instead of the chopsticks that had been brought for the dinner. When Lord Kururugi decided to try to lift Arthur in his hands to make the cat join him at the table, the animal jumped in the opposite direction to the tent, and he was swallowed by some sleeping bags. Suzaku gasped, suddenly feeling hot. A strange pressure between his legs was distracting him and he could barely hear snippets of the conversation that Lord Bradley was trying to force, thus converting it into a monologue.

He wanted to be diplomatic as it was customary, but hiding his condition, especially with his reddening cheeks, was very difficult. Suzaku was seeing double, feeling pursy, and he feared that it was becoming obvious what was happening to him. Another anomaly: each time he tried out the meat it felt as if a few needles stung in his throat, obstructing the pass of the mouthful - even though it tasted good and smelled deliciously, which was more like an understatement. While chewing, he was thinking heavily of Gino, of the feel of his hands, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat, his clean clothes on his skin, the aftertaste of his saliva, the pressure of his tongue travelling all over Suzaku and all of his body pushing the Knight of Seven to find pleasure and deliver it. Suzaku hadn't cried yet. And the last place to do it would be at a dinner with Luciano Bradley, but there he was, with tears welling into his eyes.

"Lord Kururugi, have I brought you bad memories?" As his vision was blurred, he was wrapped in heat and preoccupied by his emotional weakness and the ravages that were affecting him physically, Suzaku heard that voice drawing near only before having its owner at the shortest distance, washing over his neck, giving him shivers. Suzaku wanted to push Bradley aside (he would think of something diplomatic to respond to what seemed to be a provocation, no doubt, later, even if he was still ignorant to its exact nature), but Luciano took hold of the wrist that he attempted to move. "Are you reliving your days with Weinberg? Is that it?" In a light struggle before the second question Luciano grabbed Suzaku's other wrist with a gentleness more appropriate for a game and sent both of them to the floor, positioning himself on top of Suzaku, gluing himself to the other male's ear. Suzaku almost flipped the table with a kick, terrified, shuddering just like Arthur from moments before. His mind was spinning and he almost hadn't drunk.

"Shhhhh!"Luciano pushed Suzaku's legs apart (while Suzaku himself was frozen in stupor, barely wondering: where had all of his extraordinary strength gone, at that moment?) with a knee that rubbed on that zone, which had been repeatedly affected since half an hour ago when this banquet – which seemed to be heading towards something disturbing - started. "Does it bother you that I'm doing this because I'm not him?" Suzaku imagined hearing his own heart's frantic beating at full speed when Bradley´s lips grazed his earlobe. This could only lead to one thing and he wanted to avoid it, but his muscles were hardened. Each member with its own problem. "You are nothing but a Number promoted for selling a third rate terrorist that soon would be gunned down. I´ve behaved myself with you, haven´t I?" A sharp and violent movement of his knee, almost a blow, made Suzaku gasp instead of swearing as he had planned.

He forced his eyes shut, tilted back his head, listening to how Luciano was laughing and pinning his wrists onto the floor. The knee began to rub itself and Suzaku groaned, begging Luciano to leave him alone, only obtaining more guffaws in response. After a brief moment of hesitation, Luciano's lips were on Suzaku's, an intruding tongue, practically asking to be bitten and that he didn't dare to reject, hypnotized as he was by the alcoholic flavor of Luciano's saliva. When Suzaku was released to have his belt unfastened and to have those cold and dexterous hands placed on that utterly shameless part of Suzaku's person, he found himself grasping at Luciano's hair in a manner that seemed closer to desperate caresses than attempts at liberation.

"You want this as much as I do." That was what it was all about from the beginning, right? Suzaku was too busy harboring homicidal thoughts to take notice of the obvious. The Vampire of Britannia was a suppressed homosexual looking for some fun. Nothing more. Gino's name formed once and again on his bleeding lips, insistently, like a reproach from beyond. Suzaku was feeling queasy when Bradley removed his boots and, finally, his trousers, in order to position him face down. Like a slut.

He didn't know what to reply and soon it wasn't necessary to say anything, not with Luciano's taking him from behind, gripping his hips and ramming between loud guffaws. The world dissolved in a black fog. All the better. He gagged twice, nearly vomiting. Arthur hissed from some part of the bed, but Bradley didn't allow Suzaku to search for the cat and his touch sufficed to undermine the intention. They slept on the cot, on top of each other (surprisingly, Suzaku didn't end up underneath), like enemies that made peace for one night. The storm was blowing violently. Anya sent a message a few hours ago, but the storm did not permit it to pass; neither was it useful.

The Knight of Seven searched in the dim light of the gas lamp standing half a meter away from the bed for an artifact that was making the sound: a low timbre, an instrumental version of "_If I can't be yours_" (that made him think in succession about the child Lelouch, his father, the Britannian woman that adopted him, Euphie, Lelouch as the Traitor and now Gino too, condensing into an amorphous mass all the different pains from the wounds that should have healed by now, but continued bothering him. Insistently.) He swore at having turned off the mute mode. He didn't want Lord Bradley to awaken and he even thought, a little before falling asleep (in that very compromising position), that he should look for a way to thank the other man for that change of behavior, which suddenly explained so many things. All the better.

Anya Alstreim's words were brief and concise, almost harsh in their thunderous pragmatism, though not lacking a short pained note (of a dubious light, given the circumstances and also because the girl's expressions varied from monotone to atypically energetic)they turned the world, that had already given incredible spins in a matter of few hours, upside down once again. Suzaku wanted to throw up. He had to do it. And to _leave_ that place, shared with a man capable of...

"Let me guess: somebody has revealed to you the details of my plan, eh, Kururugi?" His eyes were glowing. They were malignant and alluring. Although Suzaku was just on the point of vanishing in an ocean of saltpeter, he couldn't take his eyes off Bradley. While talking, Luciano (still naked, lacking the decency to cover himself at least with a bed sheet, in the same shameful state of undress as Suzaku, who ended up this way because of his carelessness and almost-confidence) rose to his feet and advanced towards him. Suzaku wanted to hit him. He certainly didn't lack fury, which was palpitating inside of him. But the disgust was debilitating. And hatred, towards himself, for falling for that ploy so easily. (And he _still_ couldn't summon the tears). "It's not that I had the intention of fucking you from the beginning. But on the way it seemed to me quite adequate. First, I made you swallow your precious Knight of Three's dead heart. And then my semen." And he burst out laughing and Suzaku couldn't hear anything else, as if he had fallen from the brink of a precipice. "And you did it! It's a pity that they had cremated the leftovers that I dumped onto the funeral workers. Don't you think that Lord Weinberg's meat made a fantastic aphrodisiac? It was as if I had put Viagra in your food. Never again shall I say that he was useless from tip to toe…"

***Athor's Note: **This quote is from a poem from "Circe" by Cortazar. There are certain parallelisms between Delia and Luciano if you know where to look.


End file.
